Would That My Love
by ericajanebarry
Summary: Harry, Erica ...and Johnny Hartman. Revolves around the beautiful song "I See Your Face Before Me."
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This little Harry-and-Erica vignette came from the larger piece entitled That May Be All I Need. That fic did not survive, but it birthed some shorter stories which I've been trying to resurrect and post.**

 **While the main focus of my writing these days is Richobel (Dr. Richard Clarkson x Isobel Crawley; Downton Abbey), Harrica were the ship that turned me on to the concept of late-in-life-love. They will always be precious to me!**

 **If you read, would you be so good as to review? Thank you ever so much!**

 **DISCLAIMER: No matter how I may wish it were so, I don't own Erica Barry or Harry Sanborn. They were given life by Nancy Meyers, Diane Keaton and Jack Nicholson. I'm just their biggest fan!**

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... And in their kitchen on this early summer afternoon, Harry and Erica Sanborn move into one another's arms while Johnny Hartman croons about looking into the face of real love amidst a world full of imposters. It's a beautiful song; the embodiment of the sexy slow dance, and it has become their anthem.

Harry's got one arm wrapped around Erica's waist while the other hand clasps hers. Erica presses her ear to his chest, listening to his heartbeat while her free hand fiddles with the collar of his shirt. She thinks about how good he feels: solid, safe, masculine, warm, enticing. He thinks about how she fits so perfectly against him, about the taste of her skin, the curve of her bottom, the way she easily becomes so completely undone in his arms.

As they move with the music, Harry frees his hand from Erica's grasp to lift her chin so that he can look into those heartbreaking blue eyes. She touches her fingers to his lips and he kisses them, sucking the tip of her index finger into his mouth, knowing what her response will be.

He's right; she moans, and he brushes his lips against hers. They kiss thoroughly, and it's at once as if they've never done this before and yet as familiar as breathing. Harry cradles her face in his hands; Erica slides her fingers beneath his shirt and touches bare skin - his ribs, his chest. He always feels hot to the touch. Not feverish, hot. Like he's so full of passion for her that it threatens to burn him up. Or her. It's wordless kissing, I-want-more kissing, as they sway to the music.

The song ends eventually, pulling them from their reverie. Harry surprises Erica with, "I don't want to let go, do you?" It sounds like something _she_ would say and he would tease her about.

"Okay, time for me to turn tables on you. 'Have you always been like this or do I bring it out in you?'" She smiles playfully, her arms still loosely around him at hip level.

"No, honey, I'm serious. It's a lot we've been through in the space of a day. I ... I want to keep you close, that's all."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: See Chapter 1. I see this song as so _very_ Harry-and-Erica, what with him being a label executive and her fine taste in music. But then I also see it as very Richobel. At any rate, it's a lovely song. Go listen. Search YouTube for "Johnny Hartman" and "I See Your Face Before Me."**

 **In That May Be All I Need, there were two interludes revolving around this song. Here is the second.**

 **If you make it this far, would you send me a review? I'd love to connect!**

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"May I?" Harry asks, taking her hand and drawing her in, the opposite arm encircling her waist.

" _Please_ ," Erica begs, head nodding. She allows his hand to enfold hers, her free hand cupping the back of his skull as she draws his lips down to meet her own. She kisses him like it's the most meaningful thing she'll ever do, telling him wordlessly about life and death, love and loss, ambition and regret and the vitality of _being here now._

He understands it somehow, despite the natural differences between them. He buries his face in the warm crook of her neck and kisses her, licks her, bites her gently as his lips travel upwards toward her ear. The arm she had around his neck slides down, fingers caressing each of his vertebrae on the way, and she stops at his hip, pressing him into her as they continue to move to the music.

"This feels - _you_ feel so good, Harry. For all my posturing I've honestly needed to be with you like this. You're so warm and this song is so beautiful and I feel better ... _stronger_ when you hold me."

He smiles at her, burying his fingers deep in her hair. She thinks he's going to say something, but he surprises her when, while looking deep into her eyes, he sings along with the song:

 _Would that my love  
_ _Would haunt you so  
_ _Knowing ...knowing I want you so  
_ _I can't erase your beautiful face before me  
_ _I can't erase your beautiful face before me_

She's speechless, tears running down her face at this expression of love from her sentimental, soulful, sexy husband. Just like the times he's sung to her before - and he does it often, she realizes - he communicates his affection for her straight to her soul.

"Love it when you sing to me, baby," she manages through tears. Their song has ended, so Harry takes Erica's hand and walks with her to the bed.

"Lay down with me?" He asks, arranging pillows to make room for them.

"Of course." She smiles, climbing onto the bed as he does.


End file.
